Carolyn
J. Rose
Confession:
I’m an anxious flier.
I
tend to view planes—especially jumbo models—as chunks of metal that shouldn’t be
able to get off the ground, let alone cross continents and oceans. I worry that
the laws of lift might change in the middle of a flight.
I
worry about the specific plane I’m on. How old is it? How well maintained?
I
worry about the crew. How much training and experience? How much sleep did they
get last night? What’s the state of their mental health? Are they easily
distracted?
I
worry about the airport screening process and what might have been missed. I
worry about items that could be weapons—scarves and high heels and heavy
objects.
I
worry about my fellow passengers. Who is angry? Whose cough is spreading
disease? Who will infringe on my personal space and privacy? Who will talk my
ear off or try to convert me to their religion or sell me a time share in
Duluth?
I
worry about whether I’ll make my connection. And I worry about whether my
luggage will follow me to my destination in a timely manner.
And
that leads to worrying about the weight of the luggage on board. Not so much luggage
stowed in the cargo area, but the bags, backpacks, briefcases, and bundles
crammed into the overhead bins.
After
watching passengers shift and shove and wedge what seems like massive amounts
of gear, I worry that the plane will be top heavy and tilt to one side. I worry
that stuff sliding in the bins will unbalance the plane during a critical
move—like that turn that comes right after takeoff. You know, the maneuver
where the plane seems to stand on one wing. The maneuver where the view from
the window you’re seated beside is of the ground directly below.
I
wonder what’s in those sacks and cases. I wonder what’s so important that
passengers have to keep it close. And I worry about a society where the words
“you can’t take it with you” don’t seem to mean what they did when I was young,
where storage units seem to spring up like mushrooms, and where so many of us
seem to travel heavy instead of traveling light.
